


ToN-MS-PRT01 (Tale of Nova  Main Story  Part 01)

by LiciaJewel



Series: Tale of Nova (Beta) [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Amp (OC) (Transformers), D-T (OC) (Transformers), Dotty (OC) (Transformers), Gamemaker (OC) (Transformers), Prix (OC) (Transformers), Rhea (OC) (Transformers), Seavio (OC) (Transformers), Vire (OC) (Transformers)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-02-16 06:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2259903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiciaJewel/pseuds/LiciaJewel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am not a soldier....I am a police officer, my job is to protect and serve." "I am sorry to break it to you, Officer... but those laws you protect no longer exist." "An officer does not protect laws, those change all the time and can be manipulated... They protect the innocent and serve the people... So I'll ask again Megatron. What is your end game?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So been working on this story for about a month I have wrote a couple of chapters in my notebook, but they're mostly future chapters. I don't know if you would call this an alternate universe because it really doesn't follow the event of any one universe. Some major characters physical description might be different from canon. 
> 
> Reviews are welcomed, I'm terrible with grammar so if you see anything I might need to work on feel free to help. 
> 
> If you liked it please leave a kudos, they make me feel good. (I won't lie)

“As you can see my lord.” The towering charcoal mech said. His body stern and upright, like the trained soldier he was. “My squad and I have discovered much evidence. It proves he has never been on the side of the Decepticons.”

The monitors of the command deck filled with videos of the renegade’s actions. Helping Autobot refugees, sabotaging missions, stealing supplies and energon, making deals with Autobots.  

Megatron watch the screens, his face unreadable.

“Lord Megatron?” the soldier asked, unsure of his master’s mood.

The warlord just turned to the crumpled mess thrown on the command deck floor. They laid there unconscious, energon slowly leaking from them. The once brilliant white and black armor now painted blue and black. The plating dented, scorched and tattered. Their wings had long since broken in the war.

“This is troubling news indeed.” His brow furrowed, rising a clawed hand to rest on his chin.

If he didn't handle this problem correctly. He could lose more than one traitorous seeker.

 


	2. Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles be hard.

The roar of the crowd carries through the halls of The Pit. The thick dust swirled in the dry air. The cold concrete walls a stark contrast to the metal of his palm. Vents whirling to cool down the gladiator’s body, his breathe heavy and labored.

Fresh off the Pit grounds, his armor peppered with dust, shrapnel and dents. The gold and ruby of the paint, scratched and scraped, dull under the low lights.

“You feeling okay Prix?” the gladiator pushed his-self off the wall, turning to face the bot.

“Yes, just a little over heated. Tonight is hotter than it usually is.” his voice still a little shaky. 

The little bot laughed, handing him a cube of cold energon.

“It’s records highs today in the beautiful city of Kaon." the bot laughed, "What can you do?”

The mech was shorter than Prix. A fellow gladiator, by the name of D-7, but everyone just called him D-T.

His armor was a tarnished silver, but it suited the little bot. D-T was a factory worker when he wasn’t in the Pit, so polished armor did him no good, nor did he want it.

“Well,” D-T spoke up, “we should get you to Dotty, so that she can clean you up.”

Placing his hands on his hips, Prix stretched both his self and his wings as far as they would go. Trying to loosen any knots he could. Fluttering his wings a little before letting them rest completely.

“Okay.” He said, “Let’s go.”

He walked behind D-T for some time. Just listening to his thoughts on the line up for those nights’ matches. All the while Prix sipped his cube of energon. 

He try to focus on what the bot was saying, but he soon found his focus caught on a small ringing noise.

Searching for the noise, he tilted his head, trying to pin point its origins. He knew it was close, but where?

No longer was he listening to D-T, focusing on the noise. Further they walked, louder the noise became. The plating of his armor vibrating from it sheer tone now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a large shadow pass. He was too concern with the noise to care what it was.

“Do you hear that?” he asked, looking up at D-T.

“Hear what?” but it wasn’t the silver bot who answered.

The gold flyer, straighten his self-up, facing the owner of the voice.

She was a navy blue and rainbow femme, hands placed on her wide hips.

“That…” he looked around, wondering when they had made it to Dotty’s workshop. “, ringing noise.”

He turned to see the two bots staring at him.

“What?” Prix asked.

“We didn’t hear anything.” Dotty stated a confused look on her face.

The sound had started to fade, little more than nothing now, but his chest felt warm.

“You’re saying, neither of you heard that ringing noise?” Was he losing his mind? It was so loud. It drowned all other sounds out.

Dotty was the first to move. Going over to the shelf, gather her supplies that would was needed to clean him up.

“No, we didn’t.” she said turning to stand next to the shop berth, patting the top for him to come and sit down.

“Maybe it wasn’t just that eye sore of a paint job that took a beating.” she teased, giving out a giggle with her own joke. Behind him he could hear D-T give out a snort.

The femme was never shy about her feelings for his paintjob. She might be the one that has to take care of it, but she didn’t have to like it. She has even threaten to hold him down, and forcefully repaint him once.

“Which…. I mean while I have you here we …” she trailed, off giving him a sly grin.

He just shook his head.

She vent loudly, “Fine!” tapping the screen of the data pad that would bring up her files of him.

“Just saying I could make you look amazing.” She added.

He just shook his head. Walking over to sit on the berth. Setting down with a heavy flop, which reverberated through his body. Grabbing his shoulder, he gave it a few rolls, trying to move the stiffness out.

Dotty moved around him, placing her hand on the shoulder. She massaged it with her palms, pressing hard into the pliable plating.

Prix let out a small groan.

“Damn. Must have been on hell of a fight.” She let up. Inspecting the area “After I’m done fixing Ya, go and take a hot shower in the wash racks in the back. That should loosen the rest of the knots.”

He just gave her a nod of understanding.

Dotty knew what she was doing. She was the closes thing to a medic the Pit had. Might not have the papers, but she had the skills.

“So D-T, I missed the match. How was he?” she asks turning to the tarnished bot.

“You should have seen him Dotty. It started…”

He started to tune out the words. D-T always had a knack for making his matches out better than they were.

Prix focus more on the noises around him. Dotty’s tools coming to life, crawling over the surface of his armor.

He listens to the voices and the laughter, loving every little noise.

Prix felt the small buffer work over his battle mask, polishing the golden metal.

So distracted was the flyer, he didn’t notice when the buffer stopped. He felt the tap to the middle of his forhelm though, snapping him back to reality.

“You awake? I said take your visor off. You have a crack in it.” She chuckled; his eyes just look up at her.

“Oh… Sorry.” He took his battle mask off, now polished to a mirror finished. Reaching up he snapped off his visor. Turning the once red washed world, back to their natural hues. He handed the ruby glass over, blinking to allow his optics to adjust.

Dotty rolled the glass in her hands.

“Easy fix, should only take an hour for the resin to set.” She said laying it on her work bench, searching her cabinets for the substances. 

“I’m going to guess you didn’t hear me as well.” D-T spoke up; he was sitting in a chair next to the door. His elbows resting on the top of his knee, his hand clasped together.

He shook his head, “No. I was-“

“Zoned out again, its okay, I understand.” He looked up at Prix, his light blue optics staring at him. “I’ve got to go meet up with Amp. We have to clean and put up your weapons. The Pit matches should be over in two hours.”

“Try to be back in an hour and a half though. Seavio likes to take time walking me out.” He responded back.

“Can do Prix.” giving him a quick nod, before lifting up off the seat.

Dotty had come over and started to work the dents from his armor.

“D-T.” he stop the mech as he was stepping through the door, turning to look back at him. “Stay in pairs, even here in the Pit. I don’t want you bots to get hurt.”

D-T just gave him a weak smile, “Okay, okay stay in pairs. Worry about yourself, we’ll be fine.” then he turned and left.

Prix stared at the empty door for some time before Dotty broke the silence.

“They care about you.” He turns to face her. The little femme was testing her painter wands on her arms. Changing the top layer of armor colors, trying to adjust to his shade. Her arms were riddle with the color of other bots.

“I know.” He said as she return to fixing him up.

They sat there listening. Dotty told him stories the other gladiator’s would tell her. When they found their way onto her table. Every once and while other mechs would come in for supplies. Filling the room with steady noise.

“There all done. Hit the wash racks. Your visor should be done when you get out.” wiping her hands off on a shop rag.

Nodding he moved off the berth. Stretching his body as her walked to the back, closing the door behind him.

He stood there under the warm solution. Letting it soak into every seam it could find, washing out all the dust from the battle. Fluttering his wings under the spray droplets going everywhere, smiling at the feeling.

By the time he climbed out of the shower, he could hear voices coming from the workshop.

Walking out he was greeted by D-T and a beat up red Mech.

D-T was the first to see him. “I was telling Amp here how I was pretty sure you probably started to recharge in the showers. Thought that I might have to come in and get yah. “, grinning big at him.

Prix gave a smile back answering “Almost.”

He gave his internal clocks a once over, then turn to Dotty. She was polishing his visor with an old rag.

“Is it done?” he asked

The medic turned to him, her pink optics catching his.

“Yep. Shiny and New.”

Twisting to face him, her rainbow skirt swooshed behind her. With long strides she came to rest in front of him. Prix took one last look around, before the world turned red, with a click of the visor.

She vented with a sigh, as he snapped his battle mask into place. “It’s a shame you have to cover your face all the time. That visor can’t be good on the optics.”

“It’s fine. I take it off when I can.” reassuring her.

HE looked up at his fellow gladiators, asking “Time to go?” he already knew the answer.

D-T just looked to the ground, he never liked this part. Amp watches his silent partner.

The red mech was the one to answer.

“Yeah, matches are going to be over in forty and Seavio is waiting.” his voice somber.

Amp reaches beside him pulling up a large metal cuff, opening it up. Rising out of the chair, he walked to where he was standing.

Prix gave his wings final flutter. Holding onto the feeling, before tucking them down to lay flat. The tips crisscrossed over one another, on his back.

Amp walked around him, and he felt the cold metal clasp tightly around the wings. The soft hum of electricity coming to life in them.

He looked up from the floor to see D-T still staring sadly at the floor, not him. Prix let out a sad sigh, under his mask.

“Hey D-T.” the mech eyes shot up to look at him, “You and Amp go home. You both have early shifts in the factory. Seavio can watch me.”

Amp walked slowly back to the little bot, placing his hand on his shoulder. D-T looked at it and smiled.

“Sure thing.” D-T replied, getting up from his chair.

“See you at training, Prix.” Amp added before they left the workshop.

Prix turn to Dotty, thanking her, before he too left.

Heading to meet up with his mentor, he passes the gladiator waiting area. Filled now with only the last warriors of the night. As he walked by the ringing noise occupied his audio receptors again. He chose to ignore this time. The flyer rarely got to see Seavio as it was, he didn’t want to be late because of phantom sound.

Picking up the pace, he move pass, headed further down the dark empty hallway.

 


	3. Take a Little

“You were careless tonight. You’re moves were sluggish.” The grey mech spoke with worry and annoyance in his voice.

He walked along side Prix, his steps aided by a cane. Each steps caused pain, etched on the mech’s face.

“He shouldn’t have been able to get that punch on you. Let him in to close.” he said pointy.

“It is hot tonight, Seavio. If you couldn’t tell.” He smarted back.

Prix looked over to the mech. The dim hall lights, shining on his brush metal armor. Where once stood a powerful gladiator stood a broken factory worker.

Across the left half of his body, scars and melted metal. With each step, the sound of metal scraping against metal filled the hollow hall.

Seavio used to stand taller than Prix, now he was unable to stand tall.

He hates to see the bot like this. A mech that not only trained him, but also raised him from youth.

He try to lessen the others worry, “You’re right. He never should have gotten in that close.”

Seavio just looked over at him, “Damn right you shouldn't.” amusement in his voice. “Have you been taking in enough energon? How’s your mineral level? Are they both leveled?”

“Yes. I keep a close eye on my energon and Dotty checks my levels after ever match.” He answered.

This was an old habit for them. After every match, Seavio would go over things that were good and bad during the match. Telling him what to approve or focus more on, worrying over his health.

“Good, don’t try to take in too much. Too much is just as bad as too little. It puts a buildup on your joints.” He grabbed Prix’s elbow giving it a gentle shake.

He smiled swatting away the hand.

“I know. I know.”

 He liked it when the older mech fussed over him.

“Stay away from High-grade as well. A cube every now and then is fine, but nothing more.”

“Right, it overcharges the body.” He’s heard it all before.

“When was the last time you had high-grade?” Seavio asked.

“Couple of months ago.” Prix lied “Have you been staying out of the bar?”

He knew that the mech spent most of his time outside the factory. Drinking at the local bar, all the gladiators went to.

“Yeah kid.” Seavio lied.

Quick to change the subject Seavio asked, “How about after the match? How did you feel?”

“Nothing new actually.” He thought for a moment trying to go through all the details in his mind. Then he remembered the ringing. “Wait, there was this one thing.”

Seavio looked at him, waiting for the gold and ruby mech to continue.

“A ringing noise. It was terribly loud, it felt like it was vibrating my chassis.” He told him studying the mech’s face, “Afterward my chest plate felt a little hot.”

“Did anyone else hear this ringing?” Seavio asked raising a black hand to his chin.

At least he wasn’t looking at him like he was crazy.

“No Dotty and D-T said they didn’t hear a thing. I’m not sure how they couldn’t. It blocked out the other sounds.” He shook his head. The whole thing was still weird.

“And your chest was hot?” not asking, just confirming.

Prix nodded.

“Not sure kid.” The mech said with a shake of his head.

Prix’s wings twitched in their binds with worry. This was not lost on Seavio.

“Hey.” He stopped, turning to him, grabbing the fliers shoulder. “I’ll figure out what it is. It’s most likely nothing.” giving it firm gentle squeeze. “Don’t stress about it.”

Seavio gave him a reassuring smile.

It was more out of instincts then logic. Prix grabbed the older mech and hugged him.

Prix knew. No matter what has happen to him, Seavio would never treat him any differently.

“I missed you Abba.” burrowing his head into the neck of the big mech.

Seavio just chuckled, the vibration going through him.

“I've missed you too kid.” reaching around with his good arm, giving a strong hug to Prix .

They had reached a part of the Pit where no one could see them.

Seavio rubbed the back struts between Prix’s wings. Relaxing him like when he was little. The grip around him, tighten.

They stood there for some time. Seavio knew this was something Prix needed. He couldn't give him much now, but he could still give him this.

Prix was the first to move away, looking down at the floor. Reluctant to pull his arms from the mech.

“Thank you.” He said. His arms came to rest beside him. He could still feel warm arm wrapped around him.

“Hey. You never have to thank me.” Seavio hand slide around, cupping the side of the gladiator’s face. “It’s my job to take care of you, even little things, like giving hugs.”

He might have not been able to see it, but Prix had a huge smile across his face. His spark was filling with happiness.

“WHAT AN EXCELLENT MATCH! HAH HA!” then in second, it was gone.

Prix quick to stand straight, moving away from the caring touch. Falling back into line.

Seavio glared down the hall, toward the offending voice.

“You've made me lots of credits tonight.” A towering mech came striding down the dim out hall.

“Thank you, Sir.” He answered giving a small bow.

“Vire.” Seavio addressing him with a snarl.

Vire just looked down at him with distain.

Vire’s was much taller than Prix by at least two heads. Glossy dark orange paint covered his strong built body. It's gold flakes shimmering in the lights.

The slum lord could with ease fought in the arena, but such acts were beneath him.

Everything about him screamed, ‘I am better than you all. You are just pest below my feet’

He draped a his big arm around Prix’s shoulder pulling him close.

“Keep this up and I’ll have everyone here eating out of the palm of my hand.” He leaned in close, pulling him in, “Now come along. We must get you rested for your next match.”

Seavio shift his focus from Vire to look at him.

“Take care of yourself kid.” words was all he could give now.

Prix nodded, as he felt a tug from the larger mech. Moving him away from his caretaker, stepping between the two.

Vire looked down at the fallen warrior.

“Seavio I’m surprise to see you here. Manage to hobble out of the bar have we?” he asked.

The ex-gladiator snapped his head, facing the slum lord. “I never miss one of Prix’s matches.” Seavio stated, blue optics piercing through the titan.

“Your days as a teacher are over. There is nothing more we need from you.” Vire said. Turning from the bot, he started to walk away, dragging Prix along.

“If it wasn’t for my injuries I would offline you right now.” Seavio said through gritted denta, his hand crushing the top of the cane.

Threats, everyone there knew they were that and nothing more.

Vire stopped, not bothering to turn around.

“But you can’t. Now crawl back into the hole you came out of.” saying with a toothy grin.

He led both him and Prix out of the Pit. Leaving the grey mech far behind.

He hated how he treated Seavio, but just like the grey mech, he could do nothing.

He light hum of electricity heard over the silence, reminding him off his place.

xXx

The ride to the penthouse filled with Vire gloating. About how much he had won on tonight’s matches, and deals he had made because of them.

Prix sat there half listening to it all. Vire did this after every match. So Prix tries to only listen when there was new information. He watched the lights of Kaon past one by one, blurring into one another. Trying to stay comfortable on the ride.

Due to his wings he could only lean forward. Resting his head on his hands, arms perch on top his knees. If he was to try to set straight, his wings would dead stop him. Bending at the hinges at angle it was not meant to. Both results, uncomfortable.

He often wonders if other of his class had wings like his, or was his different. Prix didn’t understand why his wings were like this, they just were.

He remembered when he as little. He was running around, Seavio trying hard to catch him. His Abba tackled to the ground him and started to panic. Thinking he had broken the little bots wings. Only to let go and watch as Prix’s little wings pop back up, sighing in relief.

Prix was quickly taking from these thoughts. Fingers tracing up the length of his wings. His breath hitched, but he dare not let him hear.

“Keep winning matches like this and maybe, I’ll release your wings between fights.” Vire said his hands resting at the hinges of the ruby wings, giving them a hard press. It hurt but he didn’t move, knowing the mech thought this gave him pleasure.

“Wouldn’t you like that, Prix? Stretch those pretty wings of yours.” Giving a few more pushes.

It was empty promises, ways to control him. He learned long ago never to trust them, but he did have to play along with them.

“Yes,” he turned to face Vire, looking into those sick dull yellow optics. “I would like that very much.”

Trying hard to ignore how much he was hurting him.

The transport came to a stop, making Vire remove his hand. One of the drivers came around letting the slum out. 

Prix rubbed his wings before following.

He stood in the hot night air, waiting to side, up right and stoic. Vire expected of this from him.

Prix watched as Vire gave his orders to the drivers, then dismissed them. As he passed him, Vire nodded for the seeker to follow. He leaded them through the glass doors of the apartment building.

Vire own this one along with many like it all over Cybertron. Living in a penthouse on the top floor.

The slum lord owned most of the factories and mines in Kaon. Securing his place of power in the dark city.

The inside of the complex adorned with black, ivory and silver metals and tiles. The lights, even lowered for this time of day, made the lobby shine.

Prix followed behind, passing two attendants at the main desk. Security for this time of night.

The elevator came down with a ding, opening its double door to an ivory interior. Vire took wide strides into the lift, turning to lean on the far wall. Leaving Prix, nowhere else to stand, but in front of him.

 Prix took a deep breath before entering. Once in he turned to look out, watching as the door shut.

Large hands took no time to wrap around the fliers ruby hips, dragging him back. Wings pinned between him and the larger mech.

Vire bent down, whispering into Prix’s audio receptors.

“Look at you.”

One of Vire’s hands traced down Prix’s leg.

“Worth every damn credit I spent.” his other hand moving up to play with cables underneath his plating.

Prix felt dentas on his neck, leaning his head back, not out of need for more, but knowing.

If he did not react, he would be force to. So he gave the mech what he wanted, receiving a moan in satisfaction from Vire.

He could feel his tank turn.

Vire moved his hands back to the gladiator’s hip, upon hearing the ping of arrival. Pulling his lips from Prix’s neck.

He spun Prix around to face him. Pushing him back into the dark penthouse. Raising a hand removing the golden battle mask.

He felt the cool air on his face, before Vire claimed his lips once more. His mask thrown on a nearby table.

Vire’s glossa ran over his lips, demanding entry. Prix, let him in. He felt as the intrusion explored every inch of his mouth. It’s owner moaning loudly before releasing him. A trail of fluid strung from their mouths. Prix try to catch his breath that he had held on to.

The towering mech dipped down, close enough to feel his breath on his neck.

“My pretty little seeker.” He whispered.

Elevator hissed, closing its doors. Sealing him in.

 


	4. Silence

The buzzing of the alarm rang through his audio receptors. His tri-color finials folding down in protest. Waking him from sleep. the coldness of the room crept around him.

He pulled his knees under him. Stretching like a turbo fox, his long wing twitching in their binds to do the same. His body still sore from the day before.

Prix liked to set his alarm early on days like this. Days where Vire leaves, and he is left alone in the penthouse. He felt that the earlier he rose the more time he got to his self.

Today Vire had business evolving a construction contract. This meant High-grade and fancy places, hopefully taking all day. When he was gone Prix could let his guard down.

He stood on the berth. Letting the cover fall from his body. Stretching out his back, then step gracefully off onto the floor. Heading to the wash rack connected to his room.

He passed the mirror then steps back to look at the reflection. Forgetting that he no longer had his mask on. Prix scratched his face then snapped off his visor, setting to the side of the counter. He began to study his reflection, tracing over the features.

Prix’s face was glossy white, three black lines adorned it. From the center of each eye, lines angled out in opposite directions. Stopping at the top of his cheek plated then going straight down. The third started in the center of his bottom lip and then went down his chin. Disappearing under the ruby chin cap.

He stares longest at his optics. They were bright aqua blue. 

Saevio once describe them as the color of raw energon. Never have seen energon in the raw his self, he took the mechs word for it. 

He couldn’t change their color, like other Cybertronians. This was why he wore the visor. Vire hated them; it was the only thing he couldn’t control.

Prix moved away from the mirror. Walking to the shower. Watching as the solution fell from the ceiling of the rack. Falling like rain over the full space of the shower. This was the only thing he enjoyed about this place.

The droplets covered him, as he lean his head back, closing his eyes. Just enjoying the feeling. Each drop echoing in the silence. He breathed in deep, he letting the steam fill him. Aches and pains washed away.

Instinctual he tried to flutter his wings. Only to receive a quick sharp pain shot over them. He eyes sprang open, looking over his shoulder to check on them.

“SLAGGIT!!” he cursed out, “Hope I didn’t sprang them again.”

Prix let his helm gently hit the side of the shower, closing his eyes once more.

“You would think I would learn.”

Reaching up, he grabbed the sponge from its shelf, and began to scrub clean.

Prix stepped out of his room toweling dry. Walked to the energon dispenser, and took a clear cube. Filling it with the blue liquid.

He retrieved the data pad from its charging dock, as he went to sit down at the bar. Scrolling through the days ‘Cybertron World News’.

Not much to report.

The NSL team favorite lost to the third favorite. Up start Rookie by the name of ‘Stud’ takes championship racing cup. Nominus Prime seen at new academy opening. Other than those. Just articles on entertainment, gossip, business, and some letters to the editor.

Swiping over to local news, he found the same old stories. Winners of yesterday’s Pit matches, the legal ones. Factory reports, how production is going, if jobs are available. Mine reports, again production and jobs. Local events, get together, and more letters. Not much happens in Kaon.

Legally anyway

He swiped to crime section, looking over the reports.

“Local business ransacked, credits stolen, case unsolved.” He read aloud.

Work of Aries, the slumlord of North East Kaon.

“Local business was hiding out, refusing to pay for protection.” He moved on to the next report.

“Two officers reported by friends missing. Last seen three days ago. Case is still open.”

Kyros, west side slumlord.

“Crooked cops, threaten to tell secrets for bigger pays. One way trop to the smelting pits.”

“Think of all the crimes that could be solved if the police actually did their jobs.” He said sarcastically, reading through the rest of the reports, sipping from his energon.

Most of them cause by slumlords, others petty thieves and crooks.

The law enforcers worked for the slumlords, who in turn worked for the Gamemaker. No one who works for him makes a move without his approval. The Gamemaker owned the Pit itself, and many of the business around Kaon. He had been in Kaon for a long time, and his roots ran far and deep in its ground.

 Prix over the years had learned to listen.

Vire when he first moved Prix into the penthouse was careful. Never talking about his other ‘business’ event around him. Not long after, he grew confident that he had nothing to worry from him. Now he held nothing back, telling him almost everything.

Prix had learned a lot of secrets.

He took another sip of his energon, resting it back on the counter. Reading a few more articles. A suddened chill ran down his neck, causing him to shiver. He wrapped the plush towel tightly , cocooning his self as much as he could.

  
Prix rose from his seat at the bar, gathering the datapad and cube.

Strolling across the open area of the apartment, into the living area. He turned on the fire place, making the orange fire glass crackle to life.

Placing the pad on the small table, he picks up the remote and flipped through the vids. Finding one of his favorite, and laid down on the black couch. Pulling the towel around him like a blanket, attempting to warm up.

“I hate the cold.” He mumbled.

Cradling his helm in his arms, Prix laid on his stomach. Feeling the warmth of the fire, fill the room and move across his body as he watches the show.

It was an old series that he and Saevio watched when he was younger.

Buddy cops solving cases and expertly taking down the bad guys. One was a tall good looking yellow mech. His partner and best friend, a shorter blue grey mech. Who had a problem for getting involved in get-rich quick schemes.

When he was younger he loved it for all the action and bad guys going to jail. Now he watched it for the nostalgia and to test his knowledge.

It was funny how much they got wrong and right, but it made for an amazing show. Prix still loved it flaws and all. When little, it gave him hope. That not all cops were corrupt, something that most in Kaon did not believe.

He got up and walked over to the big window. It ran ceiling to floor, wall to wall, overlooking the streets of the broken down city.

He hated being this high above the streets. Ironic for his class, but you couldn’t hear the sound of the city from here.

The citizen going about their everyday lives. The traffic of bots coming and going. Conversions of passerby. Children playing and their parents yelling for them. The construction on an ever changing city.

He grew up with this noise and found it hard to be away from it.

The streets of Kaon had a music all its own. This apartment had no music, it made no sounds.

Prix looked over the space. The lights shined off its features.

The floors were ivory, polished to a shine, along with the walls. Kitchen appliances were silver metal and the cabinets frosted glass, trimmed with the stuff. The doors to the room and elevator champagne in color. As were the stairs and second floor railing.  

No pictures, no art. Just a few silver shelves with ‘trophies’ from his Pit. Battles won by his more lethal gladiators. None of these trophies were from Prix. He fought in the ‘first to wound or knockout’ fights.

Prix was to valuable to risk getting killed.

This suited him. He’s never had a desire to kill, nor was he train for it. Saevio had taught him how to fight and Saevio wasn’t a killer.

Prix missed Saevio’s home. It wasn’t the biggest or best. To be honest. It was one slammed door from caving in but it was warm and always filled with sound. From noisy neighbors, bots on street, or buddies coming over after work.

Many times he would come home and blast music as loud as he could. Only to have Saevio come home after work yelling about how he could wake the dead. This was usually followed by the old bot upstairs beating the floor to try and shut them up.

That wasn't home, this was a shiny prison cell.

Prix could play no music and he couldn’t leave. He was giving his own room but Vire came and went as he pleased. Some nights even waking Prix.

Prix looked at his internal clock. There was still a few hours before Vire was due back. Thinking this was a good time to get a nap in.

He collected the towel, cube and datapad from the living room. Placing the pad back on its dock. Washing the cube and placing it back in the cabinet. Tossing the towel into the laundry. 

On his way back he passes his mask, picking it up from the side table.

Prix left the show playing. Filling the space with noise, as he walked into his room. Placing his mask next to the visor on his night stand, where he had placed it earlier.

Wrapping the cover around him, Prix crawled into the berth. Laying on his side, and resting his helm on the soft pillow.

He set his alarm to wake him an hour before Vire’s return. Pulling the covers tight, feeling his self-fall into a sleep, thinking of his home. Letting the warm memories fill his spark.

 


	5. Unknown

The dust swirled in the sunlight. Shining through the hole in the ceiling high above the Pit. Two mechs try desperately to tag the third. Each swing and kick they throw, expertly dodged by their opponent.

D-T and Amp have been working for less than a breem and finally position the mech between. Fighting in unison to hit him from both side. When he dodge one attack, he had to quickly dodge the other. This contest pattern was being to wear him down.

Amp dropped down, going for a sweep kick of fighter’s legs, only for them to jump out of the way. D-T rushed the bot, vaulting off of Amp’s back. Prepared to land a kick squarely into the chest. They flipped backwards, D-T pede grazing the edge of the face plate, as he flew over. Landing behind the mech, he rolled then popped up, facing them.

They still had him between them at least.

They circled the bot, watching, waiting for any sign of a waning guard. Heat from the gladiator’s armor warping the air around it, as he kept in time with the two of them. Making small circles where he stood. Keeping both mechs in his sites.

As the mech shifted his focus from D-T to Amp, their wing twitched. That’s when they made their move.

They rushed the bot. Both going in to land successful blow, one punched, and one kicked. The gold seeker activate his thrusters at full force, propelling him up. They had no time to stop. D-T’s fist slammed into Amp’s battle mask. Amp’s kicked D-T in the side. Knocking them both on their ass plates.

“OWWW!! FRAGG IT, D-T!!! I THOUGHT YOU SAID WE COULD TAG HIM THIS TIME?!” Amp yelled, raising up onto all fours. Pointing an accusing finger at the tarnished mech.

“I SAID NO SUCH THING!! YOU SAID WE COULD TAG HIM, I SAID HE WAS GOING TO KILL US!” D-T corrected, lying flat on his back, pointed into the air.

“What do you think Prix? He asked the hovering seeker.

Prix landed back down on the arena ground. The dust forming into louds under the force of the thrusters.

“I think,” he sat down in the dirt, “you both almost had me.” Leaning forward he rested his arms onto of his knees.

“HA! TOLD YAH!!” Amp yelled, pointing his finger back at D-T then falling over with a thud.

“If I didn’t have my thrusters, I wouldn’t have made it out.” Prix said,

Cooling fans were working hard to cool the gladiators systems as they rest.

Prix leaned back on his arms. He looked up, watching clouds cross the small piece of blue sky they could see. A distant seeker streaked across, white vapors trailing behind them.

“Wouldn’t it be nice, just to leave Kaon for the day?” Prix looked over at his tarnished friend, still lying on his back. Staring up at the same blue sky he was.

He shook his head, and stared back up. Longing for the days the air blew around his wings, lifting him up.

“Yeah it would be.” He answered “Why don’t Amp and you take a vacation?”

“No time, no money.” Amp said, lifting his-self to a sitting position. “Vire has all his factories and mines working overtime.”

Prix snapped his attention away from the sky to the red mech. His finials pointed up in responsiveness.

“Yeah, we only get time “off” today cause we’re some of his gladiators.” D-T explained.

”We're expected to do both jobs.”

“So if we’re not at the factory, we need to be here.” Amp added. “Damn I miss King Solomon’s. Haven’t had high-grade in-“

Prix interrupted Amp, shaking his head and hands.

“WAIT! Why are the factories and mines working double?” he asked, stunned by this new bit of information.

“Don’t know, all we do know is he making us work double the hours at half the pay.” D–T answered.

“Don’t say “Half the pay” it makes it sounds like we are still getting paid our old pay.” Amp said.

“What do you mean?” Prix asked “How much are you getting paid now?”

D-T raised to a sitting position. Leaning back on the palms of his hands. Just staring at Prix with confusion.

“You…” he hesitated “You don’t know? I thought –“

“He hasn’t been talking about this.” Prix spoke truth.

Vire wasn’t talking about this. When the factories did come up he would just say “Business is doing well.”

D-T and Amp looked at each other.

“Vire has cut all our pay in half and making us work double the hours. Most of the workers are lucky to get one day off at all.” Amp said.

“That’s mostly in our sector. On the count that we have Seavio as foreman” D-T said, pointing to his crimson friend. “He’s able to wiggle the shifts around so we can get the time.”

Prix moved his legs, so that one laid flat and bent on the ground as he lean forward on the other.

“Does anyone know why he’s doing all this?” he asked.

“No clue.” a gruff voice behind them chimed in.

All three of them turned to see a familiar old mech standing behind them.  The sun reflected off his dull armor, his blue optics staring down at the young mechs.

“Started about two orns ago.” Seavio told the young seeker. “So this is what training looks like now of days, a sitting circle?” pointed his cane toward them.

Prix’s wings perked up, a huge smiled formed under his battle mask.

Seavio has not came to one of the gladiator’s training sessions in a long time. Not since the first couple of years that he has started living with Vire. 

D-T came up behind Prix draping his arm around his shoulders.

“Hey we just finished sparring and we almost had him.” D-T said.

Prix’s finials rolled up starting from one side of his head to the other the back down.

“Oh no Prix is rolling his eyes, must mean it isn’t true.” Seavio teased. The old bot new better than anyone his body language. His face might not be able to emote to the world but the rest of him still could.

“No they did almost have me.” Prix said, looking at the smirking bot beside him. “I just didn’t think they would brag about it.”

Seavio gave out a hardy laugh then said “Now why were you talking about the factories for?”  Leaning forward on his cane to steady his self.

Prix rose up from the ground, brushing the dust off.

“Why didn’t you say something the other day about this?” he asked.

“Cause I could tell you didn’t know anything.” Seavio poked Prix in the chest plate, “I knew if I told you about it, you would go digging.”

Prix vented loudly, swatting away the finger. The old mech knew him to well.

Now that he knew he was going to try and dig up every last bit of information he can get his hands on.

Why was Vire doing this? What is he planning? Where is the money going? He so many question to ask, but he wasn’t sure where to begin.

Prix rested his hand on his chin, going deep into thought.

Seavio watch as the flyers finials rose and fell. Starting on each end then work their way in one after another. Once all up then they fell down in the same order. Clear sign his kid was already helms deep into thinking.

He rolled his optics knowing there was no stopping Prix now.

“What do you want to know?” Seavio asked, giving out a heavy sigh.

Prix looked at with disbelief, the old bot usually didn’t indulge his investigative side.

“Don’t act so surprise. There’s no stopping you now that you already know.” Seavio said.

Amp stood to join them.

“It’s true” he said “you were already doing that thing with you finials.” Holding his fingers up on either side of his helm, wiggling them up and down, to make his point.

D-T and Seavio just laughed.

Prix grabbed hold of his finials, holding them down, his wings twitched with annoyances.

“Don’t let those two get to you. We all got tells.” Seavio said patting him on the arm.

Even with this being true. Prix didn’t like that he couldn’t control everything his finals. Even what his wings did.

“Now let’s go somewhere better to talk.” Seavio said, wrapping his arm around Prix’s.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be one big chapter, but decided to split it into two parts. Major characers are coming soon.


	6. Information

  
They all walked into the Pit cafeteria. Finding a table in the far back, away from the noise of their fellow gladiators.

D-T offered to pick up the energon for them. They were all in great need of some refueling after their sparring match.

“So,” Prix began to say, removing his mask, eager to get to the bottom of all this. “Does anyone know where all the money is going?”

“No, I’ve talked to some of the factories accountants and they don’t even know.” Seavio said, leaning against the wall beside their table. “Vire just tells them to funds in an unmarked account.”

“Hmm.” This was all strange to Prix, he needed more information.

“What about the double shifts? Why is he making everyone work more?”

“Surplus product as far as I can tell.” D-T answered placing the tray of energon cubes in the center of the table. “Steel workers are making more steel. The miners are mining more, and even the energon refinery are doubling up.”

As he sat down next to Prix, he handed him a small metal card, “Thanks for buying, brother.”

“It’s no problem.” Prix said as he took back his money card. Slipping it between the plating of his shoulder armor. “Surplus, are you sure?”

“Yeah, D-T’s right.” Amp said from his seat next to Seavio “It’s all surplus.”

Amp picked up a cube and started gulping it down.

“We’re not moving any of it out, past the stuff that ordered.” Seavio said, “It is all moved into the warehouses on the east side of his territory.”

Prix picked up a cube, and slowly began to sip on it.

“Anything else been happening in the factories, any rumors?” He asked.

“Yeah all Vire’s “pets” are missing.” Amp said.

Prix looked up from his energon, “Missing? Has no one seen them?”

Vire’s pets were his gladiators and workers that was fiercely loyal to him.

“Outside the factory, yeah. They’re still seen at King Solomon’s and the Pit from time to time, but other than that.” Amp said.

“Vire probably has them on a secret job.” Seavio said rolling his cane in his hand.

“That’s true, but the issue is, what are they working on?” Prix took a drink, “Wonder what he is up to?”

He let the information process in his head, thinking about what to ask next.

“Is there any factories not working overtime?” he asked, “Has there been any transfers?”

D-T and Amp looked at him in confusions.

“I think all them are working overtime.” D-T answered.

Seavio shifted in his seat from, sitting up straight and facing the seeker.

“No there not. The factories making everyday things, furniture, data pads, those sort of things. They're all still working at the same pace.” He said “I looked into it when we first started, nothing has change for them. As for transfers, just the normal amount.”

“So just the mines, metal workers and energon refiners have ramped up production.” Prix asked.

“And the building material lines, yes.” Seavio finished allowing Prix to run through the facts in his head. To try and connect the dots, and find some kind of answers.

To Prix things didn’t add up. If Vire wasn’t selling the extra products, what is it being used for? Then there is the factor about the money. 

He knows the slumlord would never allow his self to run into the red financially. Despite Vire’s look and attitude he wasn’t one to waste money. He only spent it on necessities, so the money wasn’t going toward something personal. Maybe a project?

“Any ideas?” Amp asked, staring at the gold bot, waiting for answers.

Prix just shook his head.

“Nothing.” He said venting loudly, “I haven’t got a clue what he’s up to.” Staring into his drink, watching the bubbles rise then pop.

D-T broke the silence with a cough. “We’ll as much as I would love to sit here and do nothing for once. Amp and I have a shift in little over 3 hours and need to get home and try to get some recharge.”

 Amp snorted “Yeah if our damn neighbors would shut up for once.” He said lifting from his seat to stand, stretching out.

“Hey Prix, mind if we take the rest of these?” D-T asked, pointing to last four cube on the tray.

“No, I don’t mind.” Prix pushed the tray with the back of his hand toward his friend, “I can get more.”

“Thanks.” D-T said, smiling as he subspace the cubes, then got up from the table to join Amp.

“See you the day of your match.” Amp waved at the flyer before walking away, heading toward the doors. “Bye Seavio.”

“See yah, Prix.” D-T then ran after the leaving mech.

“Bye.” Prix answered waving back at them, then he stopped.

“D-T, AMP!!!” but the mechs were already gone. ”Slag, Abba can you call them back, I would do it myself, but you know.”

The grey mech opened the panel on his arm, a holo screen flickered to life.

“Sure, but what for?” Seavio asked, swiping to D-T’s name then a chime rang across his comlink.

“Idiots forgot my cuffs…again.” He explained taking a drink.

Seavio was able to reach D-T in time before they left. Prix could hear some curse words followed by a quick “Be there soon”.

The old mech hung up, then let out a long sigh.

“Again?” he asked “Meaning they have done this more than once?”

“Five times, actually. They tend to forget. Technically I’m not supposed to be walking around the pit without it.” Prix said.

“Do you not worry about someone saying anything about that?” Seavio asked, conserved etched his face.

“I take precautions. Most of the bots don’t say anything and those who would don’t train during this time of day.” Prix explained. “It also help that I grew up in this place, so I know all the spots that nobody know of. “

“I remember. You would wander off and I would have to look for several breems before I could find you.” Seavio laughed at the memories of the earlier days.

Prix smiled at the old bot, resting his hand on the old bots hand.

“Why are you here, Abba?” he asked “Not that I don’t like you being here. It’s just been a long time since you’ve came to one of my training sessions.”

Seavio shifted in his seat, think about what to say next, squeezing the top his staff.

“I've been thinking a lot lately, and realized I've been selfish.” He held up his hand to quiet Prix before he had time to speak. “Just listen, okay. I am your parent and I suppose to stand by you. Being there when you need me, but I haven’t been.”

Prix’s finials dropped low, and his wings fell, but he stayed silent. Allowing the mech to say his peace.

Seavio shifted to face Prix, looking in the visor, wishing he was able to see his optics.

“I won’t lie to Prix. The reason I stayed away so much, was because it just hurt too damn much. To see you this way and not being to do something about it.” Seavio looked over his scarred metal “I suppose to protect you, and I can’t even do that.”

Seavio face, covered in sadness, as he cleared his intake.

Prix looked away from his adopted carrier. What he was saying laid heavy on his spark, and he hated that he was causing Seavio pain.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, snapped from them he was with warm hands on his.

 “Hey, look at me.” Seavio said, squeezed Prix’s hand “None of what I carry is your fault. You need to stop taking on the world’s problem and worry about yourself.”

“That’s not how I was raised.” Prix said giving a small smile.

“I blame those damn cop shows you always watch.” Seavio said patting the seekers hand. 

Though truth be told, Seavio he got it more from his adopted Sire.

Prix gave out a small laugh. Seavio smile, it had been sometime since he heard his child laugh.

“You know I watched some of those old shows the other day after your match. They were awful.” Seavio said.

“What are you talking about, Crystal Vice was awesome.” Prix said in jested protest “How can you think they were awful?” He tried to keep a straight face, but was failing.

They both began to laugh. The shows didn’t hold up to time and they both knew this, but they were theirs.

“Vire isn’t going to like that you’re going to be round more. What are you going to say?” Prix asked knowing they would have to make up something.

“Oh I’ve already thought about that.” Seavio said leaning back into his seat. “I’m going to train D-T and Amp. “

“What?” a voice asked.

Standing beside their table stood D-T and Amp. Prix’s wing cuffs tucked under Amp’s arm.

“You’re going to train who?” Amp asked.

“You two.” Seavio said pointed at the two of them. “Primus knows you both need it.”

“Hey we almost had Prix today.” D-T said pointing toward the ruby and gold mech.

“Yeah, I think that’s pretty damn good.” Amp said.

Then the two gladiators high fived without even looking at one another.

Prix just shook his head, ad Seavio rolled his eyes.

“Oh I was there. I saw what happen. You two idiots collectively forgot your opponent’s major advantage on the field.” Seavio said grabbing his cube of energon, taking a large gulp of the blue drink.

“What’s that?” Amp asked.

Prix looked up at Seavio, the old bot was looking at him for some kind of support.

“You see what I’m talking about?” Seavio asked then looked back at the two bots. “He a damn seeker model. He can go up as well as side to side, so of course he was going to thrust up to dodge from your attack.”

D-T stared straight at the old bot, “Okay maybe you’re right.” Trying hard to act like he wasn’t.

“Wait what would’ve you done?” Amp asked sitting back down, D-T followed.

Seemly both mech forgetting why they left in the first place.

Prix watch as three of them discussed battle plans and schedules. Letting the noise was over him. He rested his helm back on his fist.

Seavio looked over at Prix smiling at him, Prix smiled back.

 


	7. Distractions

The smooth steady clicks of pedes across concrete echoed through the hallowed halls. The tall femme was in no hurry to her destination.

She was a patience bot. Able to tolerate even the most unruly of bots. Handling any situation that life can throw at her.

As she rounded the corner and looked upon the decorated office door. Knowing once she stepped through that door she would have to be on guard.

She breathed in a deep, then vented it back out, walked up to the door and palmed it open.

The other two members of the meeting were already there waiting.

In the center of the room sat a large desk, simple in design. Made from white crystal. Sitting in front of it, two high backed matching black chairs.

On her right sitting in one of the chairs, was a large orange mech. The gold flakes in his armor, reflecting the light from the window.

“Lady Rhea, how nice of you to join us today. I know that you are a bust bot, so finding time to answer my request for a meeting. It must be hard.”

She turned toward the large window, where the bot who had spoken stood.

A large mech, not nearly as big as the orange bot sitting in that sat in the chair, but large enough. He was staring out, the sunlight running across his matted white plating.

“Gamemaker, it was no trouble at all.” She looked pas/t the mech, out across the city, toward the big blue sky. “Must be nice to feel the sun on your plating?”

The Gamemaker gave out a low laugh, turned and gave a smile.

“Perks of being the game maker. You get the best office the Pit has to offer.” He boasted.

The white mech walked around the desk, settling down in his chair.

“Please sit, we much to discuss.” He motioned with his hand to the empty seat.

Rhea gracefully walked around the chair. Sitting down and crossed her leg, one over the other. She brought her hammer around to stand straight beside her.

Where ever Rhea went, she made sure her hammer was with her. It was a double headed blacksmith’s hammer with a long staff for a handle.

It was useful to have around. You never knew when you would need to hit something, or someone.

“Rhea.” The orange mech finally spoke, never once looking at her.

“Vire.” She said back, giving him the same courtesy he had given her.

 “Good.” Said the Gamemaker. “Now that we’ve all introduced each other. Let’s get down to the reason why I’ve asked you both here.”

He pulled out, from the desk side drawer, a datapad. Bringing up the information he would need for the meeting. Leaning forward, resting his arms on the desktop, clasping his hands together.

“Over the past couple of months. I’ve noticed that there has been a dip in attendances to gladiator matches.” He paused “Many feel they have seen the same old thing, the same battles. The audience need something more, new.”

Rhea rolled her hammer back and forth, listening to the white mech speak.

“Now surveys say more bots prefer the tag team battles, over the one on one bouts.”

“I see where you’re going with this.” Vire said, “You want teams from us.”

It’s true, Rhea and Vire had many fighters, but many of them did not want to be on teams. This was about something else though.

“Something like that.” said the Gamemaker.

“You want mine and Vire’s gladiator’s to team up.’ Rhea said.

Vire looked at her then back at the Gamemaker for confirmation. Just as surprise about this as she was.

It was no secret, the two hated one another.

Rhea hated how sick, just being around him made her feel. Everything about the mech gave off an air of arrogance and delusion of power.

Though she hated Vire, there was one bot she hated far more, and he sat before her.

The Gamemaker tapped the screen of the datapad, swiping up a few files.

“Prix and Soundwave, to be precise.”

Vire’s EM field Flared in irritation then was pulled backed quickly. In hope it was felt by the others.

Rhea felted it, his irritation made her smile.

“Why those two, may I ask?” Vire ask, masking is discontent.

“Numbers, Vire. We listen to what others are talking about before, during and after every match.” The Gamemaker explained, tapping around the screen.

“The audience love watching Prix’s matches. His fighting style mixed, with… what do they say? The personality of his matches, makes for an entertaining experiences.” He looked at his datapad. A look of unease came over his face, “Though not too many of his fellow gladiators like him.”

“And of Soundwave?” Rhea asked.

The White bot looked up from his notes.

“Cause of all my fighters, I can think of quite a few more the audience like more.” She said.

“Yes, Megatron is one of them, and was my first choice but that wouldn’t do. They like him in one on one, or three on one matches.”

“Still, why Soundwave?” she asked again.

“The audience are curious about him, and so are the gladiators.” The Gamemaker said with a smile. “They have a have a sort of respect for him, something Prix does not have.”

“Prix has respect from the older gladiators and the retired warriors. It’s the new fighters that don’t respect him.” Rhea pointed out, “If this is all about numbers, then all the factor should be in.”

Vire stared over at the femme watching her.

“Is that so? I will make a note of it, and make sure I send some bots out to gather data.” The Gamemaker said, tying the new information into his database. “Now think if we could pull together attendance from both of their audiences. The stands will be packed at every one of their matches.” 

The Gamemaker became elated with the ideal, a huge smile formed on his face.

“I would have to ask Soundwave first. I do not speak for him on matters as big as this.” Rhea stated.

“Of course, Rhea.” he nodded, the mechs face became calm once again.

“For how long?” Vire asked through gritted dentas.

“A vorn should do for now. After that we’ll see how everyone still feel about them. That would also allow training. I’m hoping to showcase them as the main event during the Non-lethal matches.”

“A whole vorn?” Rhea questioned.  _He was making a gamble for sure._ “What is they don’t get along?”

“Numbers Rhea.” The Gamemaker leaned back into his chair. Looking at the two of them, “I would not ask you here if I was not certain of everything.”

“So your answers?” he asked.

“Oh course Gamemaker. Prix and I would welcome this chance to partner with Rhea and her gladiator. Soundwave was it.” Vire said with a bitterness to his words.

“Rhea?” the orange mech asked.

“Like I said before. It’s Soundwave’s choice.” Rhea reconfirmed what she had already said.

“Very good.” The Gamemaker grinned and picked up the resting datapad.

He pulled up the contracts. Reaching into the drawer to pull out a small data chip, docking it to the device.

“If he agrees, both of you just simple sign then send someone with the files to myself.” He finished transferring the file, handing the clip to the femme.

She leaned forward and retrieved the data. Subspacing it for later. Rhea would have to read over every last inch of the contract. Make sure nothing was slipped in.

The Gamemaker slide the datapad to Vire. The orange mech read over it, the signed the contact.

“I thank you both for your patience and attention today.” The Gamemaker said.

He stood and walked toward the door, palming it open.

Rhea was the first to rise.

“Gamemaker.” She nodded. Walking past him to leave. Behind her she could hear Vire get up.

She was already half way down the hall, when Vire caught up with her. Rhea knew he would want to talk after the meeting.

Rhea turned on her heels facing the large mech, making him flinch. He was quick to compose his self once again.  

She will never get over making a grown bot cringe.

“Is there something I can help you with Vire” Rhea asked.

“Just make sure your freak of a gladiator doesn’t get Prix killed.” Vire snarled.

“What’s wrong Vire? Afraid someone will get to close to close to your seeker?” Rhea teased.

Vire leaned over Rhea. Looking down at her with his dull yellow eyes.

If he was trying to intimidate her, it wasn’t going to work.

“Don’t act as you like this plan, Rhea.” He said.

“On the contrary. I welcome this partnership.” She replied with a grin. “I assume Seavio will be there during their training.”

Vire’s field flared with anger.

“Why would that broken down mech be there?”

“Well. I was just thinking about our gladiators. Neither of them of them has any experiences in team battles. They only ever fought in single combat.” She crossed her legs. Looking away from him. “Seavio, as one of the Pits best, be it retired, tag team gladiators. He is the best choice for training them both.”

“They can manage without him. There is no need for him to be there.” Vire said straighten up stance.

“Tsk tsk tsk. That won’t do.” She wagged her finger at him. “I will not send my gladiator into the unknown. If Seavio is not there, neither is Soundwave.”

Rhea continued to have her helm turned away from the slumlord. Eyeing him over her shoulder. Rolling her hammer to and fro.

“So be it.” Vire began to walk away. “I’ll tell the Gamemaker you backed out.”

“And I will tell him how the cause is a personal rivalry you have with the bot.” The footsteps dead stop. Set let the information set in.

With a growl Vire answered “Fine I will make sure he is there. That is if your gladiator even agrees.”

“Good.” She turned to leave. Satisfied in getting what she wanted. “Do try and have a nice day Vire, but to tell you the truth. I don’t give a slag.” And with that she left the angered mech alone.

Vire watched as the femme walked away.

“Wench.” He said before walking back to the Gamemaker’s office.

As he enter, the white mech had returned to the window.

“So you’re probably asking yourself. Why would I request a team up between you and Rhea?” the old mech spoke. Never looking from the window.

Vire walked over to stand next to the Gamemaker.

“You now I detest that Femme.”

The Gamemaker gave out a chuckle. Patting the orange mech’s shoulder.

“As we all do, but you working with her is crucial to the plan.”

“How so? How will putting Prix on a team with Rhea’s freak, benefit us?” Vire asked anger laced his voice. He stared at the white bot, looking for answers.

The Gamemaker slide his hand from Vire’s shoulder, clasping them behind his back.

“The citizen of Kaon grow restless. The workers are questioning why they work harder. While their families and friends, become irritated that they’re not home.”

Vire stared at the mech, listening to what he was saying.

“So this is just a distraction.” Vire said.

“Yes, away from our operation. What better way than to team up two prominent fighters. No one would think of putting them together.” The Gamemaker walked away from the window.

“They citizens will be so busy watching their matches. That all talk will be away from us.” He sat down at his desk.

Vire had to admit. It all made sense.  

He nodded in agreement.

“I still do not like the ideal of Prix being the one you’ve choose.”

“I hear you worries my friend. But do not let your personal feelings cloud your judgment.”

Vire turned to the Gamemaker, then looked away.

His judgment was not clouded when it came to the seeker. Was it?

“Prix was the only choice. He is a quick learner and works well with others.” The Gamemaker said.

“This is true and I have already agree to this team up.” He walked away from the window, toward the black chairs.

“You have.”

“But that doesn’t mean I still can bot dislike it.” Vire pointed out. Flopping down with a thud.

The Gamemaker laughed. “Do not worry Vire. Soundwave is, like most of his class, cold silent and emotionless.”

Vire gave a grunt of agreement.

“No one could ever find that appealing.”

 

“You want me to believe that C.H.o.P’s was a better show than C.S.I Praxus?” Prix could not understand the grey mechs reasoning.

“Look kid. C.S.I Praxus has too much drama. I don’t need to know that detective Grid is thinking about bonding with doctor Mara?” Seavio expressed. Frustration formed across his face.

Prix and Seavio have for the last thirty breems been having this argument.

“Wait! That wasn’t brought up until season 3. You still watched it.” Prix pointed accusingly at the mech.

“Oh course I did. I never said it wasn’t a good show. Just C.H.o.P’s is better.”

Prix listened as the bot explained his reason why his choice was better. The seeker becoming more speechless by the klick.

Just as he went to intervene with his counter argument, the ringing returned. It was quick to fill his audial receptors. His chest became warm with the vibrations.

Looking up, he try to get Seavio attention. Only to have something catch his.

Walking toward them was a tall, dark mech. Their plating the color of night. Matted so not to reflect the lights around them. Biolights of deep violet covered key points of the mech frame. Their crown, arms, legs, and waist.

He watched as the mech walk past them. Following the lines of the mech’s back. Starting at the strong wide shoulders that tapered into a straight slim waist. Their waist, covered in lines of colored lights leading his eyes further down.

His chest felt warmer than it ever had before. He thought his cooling fans would click on at any moment. Forgetting what he was previously doing. The ringing noise had succeeded to drown out the world.

As the Shadowy figure turned the corner, the noise had started to return to him.

Unfortunate, not soon enough.

With a heavy clang. The flyer smacked straight into the frame of the doors. Sending a different sort of ringing through his body.

Next to him, a roar of laughter.

“Seriously kid?” Seavio tried to catch his breath.

“I know eyes forward.” Prix grabbed his helm. Finials drawn down in pain.

“Did you seriously walk into a wall because you were checking out some mech?” Seavio pointed in the direction the bot had left.

Prix just shook his head. Glad, for once, for the visor and mask. They hid how red his face was in this moment.

“So?” Seavio stared at the seeker. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Prix knew he was caught. So he said the only thing he could think of.

“Dat ass tho.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told yah Canon characters were coming, Give it I didn't mean it to take this long, but they're here. Also I refused to not write the line "Dat ass tho." it didn't matter where it went it was going to be in the story.


End file.
